


In the Kitchen of Content

by anaraine



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7272637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaraine/pseuds/anaraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shmi and a morning on the Lars' moisture farm, wandering forward on the path to contentment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Kitchen of Content

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mossy_Bench](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossy_Bench/gifts).



Shmi rises with the first dawn.

Cliegg has told her she doesn't need to, but it is a habit of nearly four decades. And it is not the sunlight that wakes her, but the feeling of dawn, a yawning breadth of heat and life that spreads over her skin and pulls her into wakefulness.

She has never felt the need to turn back under the sheets and ignore the first call of daylight. (She has never been allowed to, before now.)

Cleigg and his son tend to wake between the first and second dawn, which leaves Shmi just enough time to make a round of the homestead, checking on which vaporators will need to be attended to that day and picking the mushrooms that have grown large enough to eat.

Shmi does not consider herself very skilled in the kitchen, used to poor ingredients and even poorer conditions. Cliegg always gives thanks for her attempts, eating his fill - but the kindest thing that can be said about about her dishes is that they remain edible.

"Good morning, Shmi!"

Which is why she is grateful when Beru spends the night with Owen.

"Good morning," she returns, a smile finding a way on her face for this kind girl.

"Did you manage to get some mushrooms today?" Beru asks, pulling out a knife and cutting board.

Shmi makes a soft sound of agreement, nodding towards the basket of thin stemmed mushrooms on the counter as Beru pulls down a jar of sage leaves.

"That's great," Beru says, voice soft but eyes delighted. "We have just enough bantha cheese left that we can make a good topper for the flatbread. Here, let me show you—"

Shmi helps by cutting the mushrooms and onions into thin slices - this, she can do. Beru dumps them into a pan with just a bit of oil, and then slides the pan over the burner that is always hotter than it should be. The oil sizzles as Beru jerks the pan and tilts her wrist, tossing the food and stirring with a flat spoon.

"It doesn't take long to cook it like this," Beru says, "we just want to brown it a bit before putting it in the oven. Would you pull out the cheese and crumble it over the flatbread?"

Shmi does so. Beru spoons out the mushrooms and onions over the cheese, and then slides what will be their breakfast into the oven. She sets the chrono for twelve minutes, and then pours more oil into the pan. It does not take long for it to heat, and carefully, she shakes a few sage leaves free from the jar. "I like to have a bit of crisped sage on mine, but Owen doesn't. Would you like to try some?"

"I would love to," Shmi says, trusting in Beru's taste.

The flatbread smells delicious when they pull it out of the oven, the scent wafting through the house. The cheese has melted just enough that when Shmi bites into the bread, it tastes sinful.

Beru grins at her, lip caught between her teeth. "Do you like it?"

"It's wonderful, Beru," Shmi says honestly.

"It's a pretty simple breakfast, although you waste a bit of oil crisping the sage. It's not such a big deal for the Lars', but I never would've been allowed to do that at home."

They share a wry smile. Shmi has grown to like Beru, a quiet, hardy woman who knows her own soul. She has never been anything but kind to Shmi, and in a way, she reminds her of Ani. The quirk of her smile perhaps, or the little things that bring joy to her eyes.

Cliegg stumbles in through the doorway, running a hand through hair that is still mussed from sleep. "Good morning, Shmi, Beru," he nods to them in turn, and sits down at the table to eat.

He is a kind man, Cliegg. Gentle, and patient. He has professed his love for her, though Shmi does not understand how such a love could have grown. His son is talented enough at fixing vaporators that he had never visited Watto's shop to pay for her expertise as a mechanic.

Still, she thinks, hand passing absently over the thick scar tissue on her hip, he did free her, and has never asked for a thing in return. Not even her hand in marriage, though she is sure he would be thrilled if she were to bring it up. He is a placid sort of man, content with his farm and the life he has built.

And maybe... Maybe Shmi can be content here, too.


End file.
